


himuro the terrible

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: Nine times out of ten, if a high school student isn't currently taking a nap, they need one.Murasakibara discovers a whole new side to Himuro, and is a little bit terrified. And a little bit turned on.





	

It's not often that Murasakibara finds his boyfriend scary.

 _Murasakibara_ is scary. He's huge, and he's loud without meaning to be, and it's really easy to crush someone with strength you can't control. He knows how easily he could break Himuro if he tried (though Himuro isn't half as delicate as he looks) and that terrifies him.

The first time he discovers just how scary Himuro can be is during finals week at Yousen. Murasakibara rarely stresses this -- at least, not more than he stresses over most things, which is to say not at all -- because getting good grades for him isn't as much an effort as it is a chore which he carries out anyway. 

He knows not everyone can be as lucky as he is. Fukui-senpai needed to be tutored in his first year. Even Himuro confronts finals week with the tenacity and resignation of a man facing down a charging bull. He also knows that Himuro had spent the entirety of last night staying up studying advanced algebraic equations. He knows this because they are roommates, and every time Murasakibara woke up last night it was to the desk light on and Himuro hunched over his books. He thinks Himuro finally got to sleep around four in the morning, but with his alarm set for six o'clock, he's in for a rude awakening.

It's too early for most people to be awake now, but standing in the dorm kitchen he finds himself relishing the quiet. It's not often a school like Yousen is quiet, so the early morning stillness is more than just nice -- it's peaceful.

That is, until heavy footsteps alert him that he is no longer alone.

"Ah," he says, baffled, as a figure descends the stairs into the kitchen. "Muro-chin..."

Himuro says nothing. Himuro barely even looks at him. In fact, Himuro hardly looks like Himuro at all. His t-shirt is worn and rumpled, he's wearing sweatpants inside out, his hair is an uncombed mess, and Murasakibara could hide in the shadows beneath his one visible eye. When he looks around the kitchen, it is with the glazed look of a man ready to kill.

It's not often that Murasakibara feels fear, but when Himuro's gaze lands on him, something very close to it twinges in his stomach.

Himuro slams his hands down on the counter, swaying. Murasakibara's first instinct is to reach out to him, but he somehow knows with certainty that if he did that he would find himself swiftly disemboweled.

"Coffee, Atsushi," Himuro hisses -- although his words are slurred, so it comes out as _"Coffatsahshee,"_ instead. It takes a moment for Murasakibara to decode this; that is a moment too long, because Himuro rounds on him with eyes blazing. _"Now."_

Murasakibara does the smart thing, and begins making coffee.

Himuro slumps over on the counter and doesn't move for a the entirety of the ten minutes it takes Murasakibara to brew the coffee, pour it, and add in the milk and sweeteners just the way Himuro likes it. Once this is done, he slides it across the table, unwilling to get too close.

Himuro takes the coffee with a grunt of what might be thanks. His eye fixes on Murasakibara, staring for a moment that seems to stretch on forever. Murasakibara finds himself paralyzed, unable to even draw in a breath.

Then Himuro shoves himself off the counter, and with as little fanfare as possible stumbles upstairs again. Murasakibara's eyes, wide and wondering, trail him until he vanishes from sight. 

By the time he emerges again half an hour later, he's in his school uniform, and looks like normal Himuro. Murasakibara wonders if the beast that confronted him earlier was nothing more than a dream.

...

It would be easy to write it off as an early-morning induced hallucination, and not think of it anymore. It would be _easiest_ , to be honest, and Murasakibara likes easy things a lot more than complicated ones. He does not want to mull over how his boyfriend seems to have an entirely new side of him -- one different from the poker face he shows the world, and even the passionate boy underneath. The Himuro Murasakibara met that morning was scarier than the one who could pretend seeing Kagami Taiga after years didn't affect him at all, who could dare to punch _Murasakibara_ in the face.

This Himuro was his own entity, and just thinking of him makes Murasakibara a little frightened.

So it would be easy to write it off as nothing, except for the fact that it isn't a one time thing.

Sleepy Himuro, Murasakibara discovers, is in a league of his own.

“Atsushi.”

The mutter of his name is the only warning Murasakibara gets before a weight settles across his chest, jarring him from sleep. Waking him up at three in the morning is a dangerous thing to do any time. Even being greeted with the sight of his boyfriend, shirtless and gleaming with sweat, straddling him is not enough to pierce the haze of Murasakibara’s irritation entirely.

“What --” he starts; but Himuro does not give him the chance. He swoops down, capturing Murasakibara’s mouth with his own, and immediately bites down on his lower lip.

 _That_ does the trick.

Murasakibara falls into a familiar rhythm. Hands on Himuro’s hips, feeling the bones that jut out there. His mouth on Himuro’s collarbone, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark, but careful not to bite down too hard. He grips Himuro carefully, not wanting to get swept up by his own instinct. Pleasure, as Himuro has taught him, is not all about him. He needs to be mindful, he needs to be careful, he needs to let Himuro feel as good as he does --

His boyfriend suddenly swoops in, face level with Murasakibara’s, his mouth hovering against his jaw. Murasakibara freezes, eyes wide, as he feels Himuro nip the skin _hard._

“I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” Himuro all but growls into his ear, “but I do not want you to be gentle with me right now.”

Something sparks in Murasakibara’s brain, something feral and awestruck and so incredibly turned on. He can not help the way his fingers dig into Himuro’s sturdy thighs, the way he grips his boyfriend like it's the last time he'll ever be able to feel him. Himuro’s gasps under him are incredible, and only spur Murasakibara on further.

He would normally temper his own strength. He would be afraid of hurting Himuro any other night, of breaking him as easily as he had his action figures as a child. This Himuro, this entity made from a lack of caffeine and utter fury, does not need or respect his caution.

When he comes, it is magnificent. Himuro’s face twists up in ecstasy, head falling back, and a groan slips out of him that can probably be heard in the next dorm room. This drives Murasakibara over the edge a second later, and they both fall back, panting, into the sheets.

It takes Murasakibara about a minute to collect his bearings, to pick up the shattered pieces of his mind and glue them back together into something that resembles coherency. He turns his head, intending to ask Himuro _what_ and _why_ \--

He is already asleep, head lolling against Murasakibara’s shoulder. A look of utter contentment graces his flushed face. Himuro never falls asleep first after sex, but Murasakibara knows better than to try and wake him. He doubts he would be able to, and he doubts he would live to see morning if he somehow did.

After that night, Murasakibara changes his mind. He _loves_ Sleepy Himuro.

...

It's just a little past curfew when Himuro slips back into the room. Murasakibara has been binge watching a new anime for the past hour, but raises his head when his boyfriend shuts the door.

“Move,” demands Himuro, already pulling off his jacket. That's how Murasakibara knows it's going to be one of _those_ nights.

Himuro is cold as he slides into bed next to his boyfriend, curling up as if he was made to fit there. His bare feet chill Murasakibara’s calves, and the other boy lets out a whine as he tries to pull away. A hand slinging around his waist stops him, holding him close.

“No moving. Just stay. Rest.” And in a lower voice, one that belies the exhaustion that comes on the tail end of a week of exams, Himuro adds, “I need this now, Atsushi.”

There’s no way Murasakibara can argue with that.

He lets Himuro nestle himself against him, relishing in the feeling of his boyfriend’s warm breath on his neck. Himuro’s body is a symphony in itself, from the deep sound of his breathing to the heartbeat Murasakibara can feel, almost strong enough to hear. Small sighs slip from Himuro’s lips as he presses them to the crook of Murasakibara’s jaw, lazy and content.

“This is nice,” he sighs. “We should cuddle more.”

If given the option, Murasakibara would gladly stay in bed for an entire day. Cuffing with his boyfriend is not a problem. It is Himuro who is always so busy, always finding things to do and ways to occupy his time outside of spending it with his boyfriend. Murasakibara isn't jealous. He just… wishes they had moments like this more often.

Peaceful, gentle intimacy is still a thing he's new at. It frightens him. With Himuro, he is surprised to find how much he loves it.

...

Himuro is multifaceted to a fault -- a loaded dice with a thousand hidden sides, face after face being revealed often by accident. Murasakibara thinks he could devote his life to learning everything there is to know about Himuro, and he would die an old man only knowing half.

He should not be surprised that even Sleepy Himuro has his own gentle side.

Murasakibara discovers this in the morning. It is a Saturday, so there is no mad school rush to get out of bed; there are no alarms set, no reason to rise early. Himuro is a habitual early riser anyway, so Murasakibara is shocked to wake up the next morning to faint sunlight streaming in through the blinds and a heavy weight against his shoulder, making it numb.

He shifts without thinking, eager to rid himself of the dead-limb sensation. In response, he hears a groan, and a face presses itself into his collar.

“Atsushi… don’ move,” Himuro slurs, voice near-incomprehensible with sleep. “‘S so early… sleep more. Jus’sleep…"

There's still that bossy, demanding tone in his voice, but this side of Himuro is not frightening at all. Of Murasakibara had to describe him in a word, it would be _adorable_ \-- and that isn't praise he throws around lightly. Even if Himuro is kind of drooling on his chest, his boyfriend is still groggy and drowsy and it might just be the cutest thing Murasakibara’s ever seen.

Himuro picks his head up as the rumbling in his boyfriend’s chest indicates that he is laughing. “What?” he asks, blinking half-open eyes (two, since his bangs are disheveled and hovering away from his forehead at the hands of bedhead). Murasakibara expects annoyance, but he is surprised when, after a moment, Himuro spares him a drowsy smile.

“Nice to hear you laugh,” he mutters, syrupy sweet in his exhaustion. “I… like your laugh.”

Murasakibara can't resist the urge to lean up, placing a gentle kiss on the crown of Himuro’s head. His boyfriend is adorable and scary and funny and so, so beautiful. He just can't take it.

“Go back to sleep, Muro-chin,” he whispers. Gods knew Himuro needed it.

Himuro spares him a last sleepy smile before laying his head down once again.


End file.
